


Take Me Home Tonight

by Persephoneshadow



Series: Sing a Song of Sex Puns [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Decisions, Frottage, Human Castiel, M/M, Mentions of Castiel/Other, Mutual Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Sarcastic Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:17:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5594482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephoneshadow/pseuds/Persephoneshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?”</p><p>“Well, you, ideally.”</p><p>Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!”<br/>----</p><p>Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Home Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the prequel to "Fall on Your Knees" that a few people asked for. I hope to write more in the series. Comments are always appreciated! Thanks to Chandra for the beta.

It starts with the bar thing.

Scratch that, it starts with the fight thing. Except it’s not a fight, really. It’s a disagreement. Just with Dean yelling. And also some glaring.

Dean is getting a head of himself. It maybe starts with the human thing which leads to the almost getting killed thing.

“The situation was under control, Dean,” Cas grunts, wiping the blood that’s dripping from his nose and over his mouth and chin. There’s another cut on his forehead and he’s limping. Sure Dean’s seen Cas worse; hell, he’s been the cause of Cas looking a lot worse (don’t go there, brain) but…this is different. This is a human who’s not able to just mojo this shit away any more, and as much as Cas looks like something off an action movie poster right now, Dean is fucking pissed.

“The hell you did!” Dean snarls. “I told you to wait to go in until we were there to back you up!”

“I had an opportunity to strike while she was distracted, I took it,” Cas says, his voice infuriatingly even and cool, even though there’s some all-too-human rage simmering in his eyes.

“Yeah, that obviously went real well.” Dean gestures at Cas’s disheveled state.

“The witch is dead,” Cas counters, turning away from Dean to retrieve his gun from where it fell.

“And you were almost dead too, you idiot! Again!” Dean snaps back. This is where the glaring comes in. Because he hit a nerve there, he knows it. It was a close fight, too close for Dean’s comfort and close enough to remind Cas of his…new limits and that’s a thing they really don’t talk about. There’s a lot of those.

“I am not a child, Dean, I can handle one witch,” Cas grits out.

“Dean.” Sam’s here. Right. His voice is calm and very irritating. “Cas got her, it’s fine.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean barks and Sam rolls his eyes and keeps talking because apparently nothing Dean says to anyone anymore has any effect.

“Come on, Cas, let’s get going,” Sam says and, probably just to be a dick, adds: “Good work, by the way.”

“Do not encourage him!” Dean does realize he sounds like a crazy person. Even without the aggravated looks from his brother and Cas. He realizes Cas is fine and did a pretty respectable job finishing the hunt. But still. “My point is,” he tries again as they pile into the impala, Cas still dabbing his nose. “You…you’re human now. You have to be more careful.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Cas mutters from the back seat, futzing around with his seatbelt as Dean peals out of the neighborhood. “You two are human and routinely act far more recklessly than I did.”

Dean scowls and Sam laughs. “Yeah, well, we have died a few times so…” Sam tries to joke and Dean sees Cas give a little ‘fair enough’ nod in the rear view. Dean grinds his teeth together so hard they can probably hear it over the engine, but doesn’t say anything because with Cas what’s the point? He’s just as bad as Sam, worse really, when it comes to being a pigheaded, reckless, son of a bitch with no regard for his own safety…And yes, he knows. Pot, kettle, black. That isn’t the point. He’s not sure what is.

The fight, or his end of it, doesn’t really end when they make it far enough out of town to pick the shitty motel of the moment. The Reef – complete with scuba themed room dividers – would be cheesy at best in a gulf state, but in fucking Iowa it’s just stupidly weird. Cas disappears pretty quick to his own room to wash up and do whatever it is he does to while away the hours. He disappears a lot in the bunker too, and if Dean didn’t know that they were Cas’s ride or that there was only one way out of the bunker, he’d be constantly worried Cas had flown the coop again, even without wings. Okay, maybe he’s still worried about that.

Dean sulks through ordering a pizza and sulks through his first two slices and a beer, checking the wire and police reports for word on if the witch’s body has been found. Nothing yet, which is something at least, but the internet here is crap so he can’t be sure. Instead of sending prayers to Cas now, Sam is the one to send him a text to let him know pizza is available, which is honestly a more effective way of getting Cas to show up than prayers ever were.

“We’ve got veggie lovers and pepperoni,” Sam tells Cas as he lets him into the room.

“No pineapple?”

“Sorry, man, I forgot,” Sam says as Dean studiously avoids looking at Cas and focuses instead on the very important things on his computer screen, whatever they are.

“It’s alright,” Cas sighs. Cas takes a slice and watches the news next to Sam for ten minutes while Dean continue to simmer, even though he’s not really sure why he’s still mad. Maybe just on principle. “Are you two…set for the evening?” Cas asks, as the newscast ends and _Wheel of Fortune_ takes over on the flickering screen.

“Well, uh, pretty long drive home tomorrow so, yeah, I think we were just gonna watch crap TV and pack it in,” Sam tells him easily.

“That’s disappointing.” Now that sigh of defeat gets Dean’s attention and he chances a quick glance at Cas. He’s changed clothes – he’s in jeans and a few layers over a t-shirt. Not half bad. “I was hoping you were going out to a bar.”

“Really?” Sam chuckles. “Why? You wanna toast to your triumph or something?”

Dean rolls his eyes and sets his attention back to the laptop. He's pretty sure the same page has been loading for three minutes.

“I was hoping to have sex.”

The laptop somehow launches itself off the table in a way that has nothing to do with Dean slamming the keyboard in confusion and shock. Dean scrambles after it, meeting Cas and Sam’s eyes since there’s no point in pretending he’s not listening now. “ _What_?” 

“I was hoping to find a find someone at a bar amenable to casual sexual intercourse,” Cas explains patiently. Sam is holding in laughter and Dean feels a bit like he’s fallen into the twilight zone. “You do this fairly often, I believe.”

“Not _often_ ,” Dean sputters because Cas is looking at him like he’s some sort of annoying, yappy dog. “I mean…why?” And in a heartbeat Dean-in-Cas’s-eyes has jumped from annoying into slack jawed idiot.

“There’s nothing on television of great interest to me and the wifi isn’t particularly good here,” Cas says.

“You want to get laid ’cause…you’re bored?” Sam asks as if it’s just funny and not the weirdest thing Cas has maybe ever said.

“I’m also very tense and unsettled,” Cas shrugs. “Sex is pleasant, if I recall correctly. I believe the combination of endorphins from sexual intercourse and alcohol will relieve that.”

“Yeah, uh, it’s not bad,” Sam says, shaking his head. Dean can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “But…”

“Masturbation is an option, I guess.” Dean feels the blood rush out of his head, because, mental picture. And also…more mental pictures. And questions. Too many questions to even begin processing. “But it’s boring, though I have been experimenting with…”

“Whoa, whoa, okay!” Dean bursts out. “Way too much information, Cas!”

Cas finally looks up at Dean, his face very clearly saying that Dean’s input is the last thing he wants right now. “Given my lack of experience in the field, and the fact that my last sexual partner did try to kill me, I was hoping for some assistance,” Cas explains, pointedly turning to Sam.

“You want a wingman,” Sam states. And Cas nods, taking a deep swig of beer in the way that exposes the long line of his neck in a way that’s almost exhibitionist. “Well, uh, that’s more Dean’s thing than mine.”

“That’s fine,” Cas says after swallowing and Dean raises his eyebrows. “If Dean has gotten past his earlier-”

“Tantrum?” Sam finishes.

“Hey!”

“I was going to say…displeasure.” Dean glares at both of them. “His expertise would probably be useful.”

“Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence, Cas.”

Cas gives a little shrug and nod. “You’re welcome. However, if you’re too tired…”

“You know what?” Dean snaps, rising from his seat, flicking the laptop closed and grabbing the beer away from Cas. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“You’re doing this? Really?” Sam’s face is incredulous, as if he’s actually surprised Dean would do this put of pure spite. “You’re actually gonna try to get Cas laid?”

“Why the hell not? Like he said, wifi here is shit anyway.” For the first time in a while Cas actually seems pleased and the fact the little half smile he has going warms Dean’s insides is another thing to add to the pile of things no to think about. “I saw a honky tonk a few blocks up the street, don’t even have to drive.”

“Sam, are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Cas offers politely as Dean switches into a clean(ish) over-shirt.

“Nah, man, but…you two make good choices,” Sam mutters, laughing as he takes another swig of beer.

“Don’t wait up then,” Dean winks.

 

The bar isn’t so bad. It’s Friday night and the music is actually pretty decent, with some genuine rock n’ roll mixed in with some other classics. Cas isn't gonna tell anyone that Dean is nodding along to Eddie Money, at least, Dean thinks to himself as he chases a third shot with some beer.

“Is it wise to drink that much this early in the evening?” Cas asks from beside him at the bar.

“Dude, have you met me?” Dean hits back then nods at the shot of whiskey Cas still hasn’t touched. “You’re not even trying to keep up and I though alcohol was part of your hedonism relaxation plan.”

“It is, but I wanted to wait until I found a suitable partner to engage,” Cas tells him . “I guess it won’t hurt.”

Dean grins as Cas downs the shot and the ex-angel cringes just a bit. Dean is feeling the booze, in the nice warm way the comes from drinking with another person, rather than the heavy fog of drinking alone. He claps Cas on the shoulder. “So, trawling for sex. You’re a real boy now,” he teases and Cas rolls his eyes. His tolerance for Dean’s ridiculousness mostly went out the door with his grace, it seems. “Say, you’re not considering lighting up a few joints and hosting a transcendental orgy later tonight, are you?”

“No, I think one partner will be adequate for now,” Cas deadpans, casting his gaze around the bar again.

“For now?” Dean echoes, somehow not at all surprised.

“Well, it would be foolish to dismiss any possibilities,” Cas murmurs but he’s distracted by examining the group by the pool tables.

“Oh no, man, not them." Cas turns his attention back, eyebrow raised. “They’re already all in couples, probably a double date or something. If you’re going to do this, maybe try keep it to chicks that are here alone.”

“People."

“People?”

“You said chicks, implying I’m only interested in females,” Cas says and Dean chokes on his beer. “I have no specific preference as to gender for this endeavor.”

“You… _what_?” Dean wheezes, trying to breathe and not make a scene, though the bartender is already giving him a look. He waves the attention away and turns back to Cas. “You’re just, DTF...anyone?”

“I’d prefer someone to whom I feel some level of sexual attraction,” Cas shrugs. “But, yes…a female or male or even a non-binary individual will do. Though given the likely political and societal demographics of this area and establishment, I do understand that finding a male partner would be less likely. Though it would be more interesting given that I haven't had any real sexual interaction with men.”

“You make it sound so sexy,” Dean tries to joke though it actually does trigger one of the obviously blown fuses in Dean’s head to hear Cas talk about sex with men with the same ease and nonchalance he uses discussing demons or why humans have ‘so many kinds of peanut butter, Dean, it makes no sense.’

“That’s the idea,” Cas mutters and Dean can’t help but laugh to himself. He looks around the bar, trying to see things from Cas’s perspective and failing.

“So, someone you find at least mildly attractive, that’s a good start,” Dean muses. “You gotta give me a bit more than that to work with.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas says, turning to squint at Dean.

“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?”

“Well, you, ideally.”

Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “ _Excuse me_?!”

“You okay there, sir?” way-too-curious-bartender asks as Dean tries to get a hold of himself.

“Fine! Fine, just uh, need another shot. Two actually,” Dean covers (badly), waving the guy off and wiping his mouth. Cas continues to stare at him like his reaction isn’t completely appropriate for being told by your best friend they’d like to fuck you.

“This can’t be a surprise,” Cas says, blinking. God, if Dean didn’t know better he’d say the guy’s voice had gotten even deeper than usual in some attempt to show concern. “You’re extremely attractive, which I know you’re aware of. And I’ve always…” Dean’s eyes go wide in way must look like horror because it actually shuts Cas up. “I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable.”

“I, uh…no, it’s…” Dean is incredibly grateful when the bartender arrives with their shots of whiskey, even though they’re delivered with a leery look. It’s an excuse to stop talking. Dean downs his and it does absolutely nothing to help. In fact it’s enough to take him from a warm and confused buzz to very confused and thinking about what he’s just been told in a way that makes him start considering _things,_ very naked things, and god fucking damnit this whole thing just got even weirder.

“She’s quite attractive,” Cas is saying and Dean honestly doesn’t even see the woman Cas has indicated. He sort of doesn’t want to.

“Yeah, uh…go for it,” Dean says, trying to not even look at Cas. That works for about two seconds and then Cas is throwing his head back to take his own shot and it’s amazing how dry Dean’s mouth goes as he stares at Cas’s neck.

Is he going to come back in the morning, tension relieved, with hickeys on that side of his neck? Maybe at the pulse point, just where the five o’clock shadow fades a bit…

“Dean?”

“What?”

“I asked if you had any advice,” Cas, apparently, repeats.

“Oh, uh…you know the thing you do where you say exactly what you mean or want?” Cas nods earnestly. “Don’t do that.”

Cas scrunches his face up in offense (it is not cute, Dean, stop it) before he seems to decide Dean is probably right and strides away without further ceremony. Dean fails at not checking out Cas's ass (those are some nice jeans, okay?) and watches as he greets the woman, a brunette with jagged bangs wearing an off-the-shoulder shirt that definitely is sending all the right signals.

What the hell was Cas gonna say after the off-hand confession he found Dean “extremely attractive?” And what was Dean supposed to say back to that for fuck’s sake? And why is this the first time in literally years of knowing each other that this has come up? Okay, maybe it sort of has from other people but not...not like this. Not from Cas. Well, there’s the human thing, which apparently does make a difference for Cas and how he…experiences things. Maybe. And, to be brutally honest it’s not like the thing hasn’t been there for, well, forever. But they didn’t talk about it. It was comfortably at the very bottom of the ‘we don’t talk about that’ heap. It was buried under purgatory and false gods and broken promises and rebellion and…

Dean signals for a double shot.

Cas has to be screwing with him. It’s some twisted form of revenge on Dean for being a complete ass all day. Or maybe all week, he’s not sure. But that’s gotta be it because Cas can’t _know_ ; even though the guy could sort of actually read minds until recently. He can’t…

Shit, the girl is actually smiling at Cas. And Cas, the fucker, is smiling back like he’s not the most awkward ex-angel in the world. And okay, Dean can’t blame her for digging the guy because Cas is beautiful. Dean is extremely aware of that, especially right now. Even when Dean is pissed at Cas, he's hot. And that usually just makes Dean more annoyed with him. This girl has a prime seat to enjoy the sharp line of Cas’s jaw and the way you can tell even through three layers that he’s lean and muscular. She’s leaning closer and Cas says something too seriously but she thinks it a hoot. Maybe she’s imagining the texture of his hair (it’s silkier than you’d think) or the way his ass or thighs might feel under her hands.

Dean downs the new shot and stops caring about the bartender judging him and keeps watching Cas and the girl. He’s already firmly in crazytown, why not stay? The chick does the looking up at Cas through her lashes thing and Cas actually flags down a waitress for, presumably, more drinks because obviously the hook up is a go.

And there’s a mental picture Dean really doesn’t need; not because imagining Cas with her – in detail – isn’t hot, because it is. (Especially imagining what Cas’s face might look like as he slides into her, and wondering what ridiculous thing Cas might say afterwards by way of pillow talk.) But because thinking of Cas with someone who isn’t…anyone who wouldn’t appreciate who they were really with…

Before Dean can stop himself he’s throwing money on the bar and waking over to where the happy couple is giggling away. Dean is making a trademark Bad Winchester Decision; he’s pretty aware of this. But’s he is also just drunk and angry and confused and horny enough that the next thing he does makes perfect sense.

“Dean?” Cas asks, looking up in confusion.

“What if choice number one was an option?” Dean asks, and he takes a little too much satisfaction in fact that the girl looks very annoyed and turned off.

“What do you mean?” Cas asks back carefully. There’s actually nothing about the way he looks at Dean that even remotely indicates he finds Dean anything but bewildering, let alone attractive, at the moment, yet Dean’s pulse is pounding under his scrutiny.

“I mean…” Dean swallows down his fear. Screw it. “I’m in if you are.”

Cas blinks once, then surveys Dean from head to toe, as if he’s still not quite sure; which is nerve-wracking, annoying and arousing all at once. “Okay."

“Okay?” Dean echoes, almost offended.

“Okay,” Cas says again, before giving the girl (who is still there. Whoops) an apologetic nod. “We have to go. It was nice to meet you,” he tells her before turning on his heel and heading back out onto the street. He glances back at Dean who is still processing. “Dean, I do think this requires both of us.”

Dean only trips over himself a bit as he rushes after Cas into the cool night air. When had that dang bar gotten so hot anyway? The human thing hasn’t affected Cas’s speed-walking abilities, nor have the drinks and Dean has to scramble to catch up with him. Cas keeps things from getting too awkward by stopping mid-stride the moment Dean comes shoulder to shoulder with him.

Cas sets a hand on Dean’s arm and it has Dean swallowing down eight different kinds of nerves. “Wait,” Cas tells him and suddenly Cas in pulling them off the main drag into the shadows of the entry to some locked accountant’s office.

“Wait what?” Dean protests. “What are you…” And then Cas is kissing him. Just like that, no warning. Cas has pulled him close by his collar and is _kissing him_.

Dean’s actually been electrocuted a few times. It’s not fun, obviously. And he’s also been kissed a hell of a lot more times. That is fun and there’s nothing quite like the thrill and promise of a first kiss. The feeling of _yes, finally,_  and the solid confirmation that you really are _wanted._ First kisses are generally awesome. This kiss is that, it exciting and enticing, oh yeah. But it’s on a level that’s really close to electrocution.

It takes Dean several seconds to get with the program, but he’s nothing if not good at catching on fast when he needs to. He grabs Cas’s shoulders as he kisses back, harder than he probably should but Cas – after Dean’s initial hesitancy – kisses like it’s going out of style. Dean wants to slow down, wants to concentrate on the texture and feel of Cas’s lips against his own, and how they’re softer than he imagined and the way they slip against his that’s criminally perfect. But he also wants to push Cas up against the side of the building and grind into him and confirm that the kiss is doing the same thing to Cas’s dick as to his own. Dean breaks away to breathe and just as suddenly as he attacked, Cas is apparently done, panting a bit as he looks at Dean with darkened eyes.

“Good,” Cas says.

“Yeah, it…” And Cas is off again, walking even faster than before. “What?”

“I wanted to make sure that this would work,” Cas explains, declining to make eye contact with Dean as he looks carefully back and forth before rushing across a crosswalk with Dean almost jogging to keep up. That’s two things making it hard to breathe. “I was reasonably confident, but…well, I didn’t want to have to walk all the way back to the bar.”

“Has anyone bothered to tell you you’re an asshole as a human?” Dean grumbles, trying not to walk in a way that encourages the hard-on growing in his jeans and failing.

“You’ve mentioned it,” Cas says and Dean catches the smallest of smiles darting over Cas’s face in a flash of headlights. It should not turn Dean on more, but it does because that’s just how this night is going and honestly Dean’s stopped fighting it. It seems every bit of anger he's felt at and about Cas lately had turned itself into want. “I am glad we went somewhere so close,” Cas remarks when they finally reach the motel and rush up the steps to Cas’s single room (praise be to whoever made that decision).

“Yeah, me too,” Dean agrees, a little bit distracted by how he would rather be touching Cas everywhere and not waiting for him to find his key and let them in the goddamn room before anyone sees them.

“Though, I am a bit disappointed this won’t be happening in the Impala. I’ve been wondering recently what that would be like,” Cas confesses a bit wistfully and thank god that’s when he gets the door open because Dean is _done_.

Dean has Cas’s shirt in both fists and Cas pressed between him and the door the instant they’re inside, kissing Cas hard and deep. Every place their bodies are in contact is surging with heat, and Cas is strong and solid against Dean. Especially where Dean can feel Cas getting hard against his thigh, catching up to the situation Dean’s had developing for way too long now (fifteen minutes? Eight years?). Dean shifts the angle of his body, grinds against Cas, and earns a surprised groan of pleasure from the other man.

“You…” Dean pants, rolling his hips again and provoking a shudder from Cas, whose mouth remains against Dean’s cheek and whose hands have joined the party, one grabbing at Dean’s ass, the other tangled in his hair. “You’ve wondered…” Dean punctuates the words with more thrusts and a few sloppy kisses. “…what it would be like…to fuck in baby’s backseat?”

“I was more interested in the front seat, actually,” Cas replies way too easily, though his voice is marginally rougher and more breathless. “But you do make a good point, though I’m not sure how comfortably we’d fit.”

“Dude, we have to drive like six hours tomorrow!” Dean protests. Cas’s mouth finds Dean's neck and the room starts spinning as Cas’s teeth and tongue explore the sensitive skin.

“So?” Cas murmurs, thrusting his own hips against Dean, who’s temporarily loses higher brain function at the action, combined with Cas sucking a hickey onto his collar bone. He’s not even sure when Cas started pushing off his coat and over-shirt but Dean’s suddenly in just a t-shirt and he’s fumbling with Cas’s clothes in a desperate attempt to get to more skin.

“ _So_ , now I’m gonna have to spend the whole fucking drive thinking about that!” Dean accuses and Cas makes a curious ‘hm’ sound before it dissolves into a moan as Dean slips a hand up Cas’s shirt and pinches his nipple. “What do you mean ‘hm’?”

Cas kisses him again by way of reply, devouring Dean’s mouth with astonishing enthusiasm. Dean loses himself in the kiss and the feel of Cas’s heated skin against his own palms. There’s a bit of pride mixed in with the surging lust he’s feeling; because he gets to be the one to make Cas feel this way. He’s the one Cas wanted even though that makes Cas certifiable…Dean must have paused too long to think about that because Cas’s mouth is gone and he’s pushing Dean back and towards the bed.

“I don’t usually engage in sexual fantasies of you while we’re actually in the car together,” Cas tells him, stripping off his coat and shirt. Shirtless. Cas is shirtless in front of him. Thank god the light is on because the view is awesome. Dean tells himself that he trips back on to the bed, but it’s definitely falling. “I was under the impression that would be inappropriate.”

“Yeah, that would be…” Whatever smartass remark Dean was going to make disappears when Cas starts undoing his jeans, his eyes never leaving Dean. Dean’s had a picture of what Cas would look like naked (minus the bees) in his head for years. Even halfway there, reality is already better.

“This will probably go better if you’re unclothed as well,” Cas suggests, pulling down his pants and leaving just boxer briefs. Usually Dean would argue with any order delivered with that much sarcasm, but in this situation he obeys very quickly. It’s amazing he doesn’t dislocate anything tearing of his shirt then wrenching himself out of his pants (and socks ((and shoes)). It’s not sexy at all on his part, but Cas doesn’t seem to mind, if the fact he’s fucking _climbing_ onto Dean is any indication. Dean scrambles back on the bed and Cas straddles him, grinding his cock against Dean’s again, now with more weight and less clothes between them. Less but still too many. It feels amazing though and Dean has to actually take a moment to remember how to breathe.

“When do you think about…me?” Dean asks, maybe going a bit redder. It’s sort of a ridiculous moment to get shy about questions but what're you gonna do? Cas smiles down at him – a bit feral and far too pleased with himself - as he trails his fingers over Dean pectorals and the sides of his abdomen while Dean sets his hands on Cas’s hips.

“While I pleasure myself. I thought that much would be logically obvious,” Cas intones, gasping happily when Dean bucks up under him while holding Cas firmly in place by the hips.

“Did you ever thing about doing this?” Dean asks, and the way Cas is touching him and looking at him – delicate, soft, _admiring_ – is driving Dean crazy. Or crazier.

“You seem extremely fixated on the fact I fantasize about you,” Cas purrs, bending down to lick at the shell of Dean’s ear. Dean makes a high, slightly agonized sound he will never admit came from him then shivers as Cas bends down to lap at his right nipple. “I can’t see why you’re surprised, you’re…”

Dean doesn’t know why he’s holding his breath. He’s heard it all in terms of dirty talk. Even the unspoken words in Cas’s still gentle caress have probably been whispered to him before with varying degrees of sincerity.

“You.”

Except that.

“Fucking hell, Cas,” Dean groans and pushes his hand somewhat ungracefully into Cas’s boxers to grab his cock, because the jerk is _not_ allowed to change the tone like that. Not now.

Cas moans at Dean gives his first few strokes, his forehead against Dean’s shoulder, shaking a bit as Dean gets the lay of the land. “Dean…yes…” Cas rasps out as Dean slides his thumb over the head, spreading the beads of precome.

The angle is a bit awkward, and before too long Cas wrenches himself away and yanks off his boxers impatiently. He takes a little more time with Dean, his focus darting between the slow reveal of Dean’s dick and Dean’s face. That makes Dean think too much about what he looks like right now, and that makes him drop his head back on the mattress and screw his eyes shut so he misses it when Cas slides back up his body and positions himself so that their cocks are aligned almost perfectly in the juncture between Dean’s thigh and hip. It’s Dean’s turn to moan, but Cas’s kiss muffles it.

Concentrating on whose hands are where, or who’s setting the pace is hard.  Sweat and precome aren’t exactly lube, but right now the friction of cock against cock is awesome. It’s in perfect rhythm with the way Cas’s tongue is fucking Dean’s mouth and it has Dean reeling. He’s barely coherent enough to remember that Cas has a neck as well as a dick and a mouth and hands that are, oh, slipping under Dean’s ass to pull them tighter together. That neck needs to be kissed and bitten and marked, though, he remembers how important that is. So that’s what Dean does when he breaks away. Cas makes a long, low sound as Dean sucks on that perfect spot, right there on the left. That’s gonna leave a mark.

“I thought of this, yes…” Cas whispers, because he still remembers how to use words. “Of you beneath me, just like this. On several occasions. It was highly effective combined with manual stimulation.”

There’s a part of Dean that wants to chew Cas out for talking like that _now_ but all that comes out is: “Show me.” Cas draws back, raising an eyebrow. His hair is a wreck and he’s flushed and just a bit sweaty. In other words: perfect. Dean’s licks his lips, already missing the taste of another mouth as Cas leans back and relieves the pressure and friction on their dicks and hesitantly touches his own cock, just grazing it with his knuckles. It takes a moment of admiration before Dean remembers himself.

“No,” Cas pauses, looking curious. “On me,” Dean asks tightly. “Touch me the way you touch yourself.” The interested squint, the tilted head and that pleased, lopsided smile that creeps back over Cas’s face aren’t new at all, but they’re incredibly hot in this context. Dean settles his hands on Cas’s thighs as Cas takes Dean’s cock in hand, with a bit of hesitancy, clearly testing a weight and feel that’s different from his own. The light touch is almost teasing, like Cas had been doing before, so maybe that’s what he likes though, Dean thinks. Then Cas tightens his grip and thinking mostly stops.

Cas’s strokes are long and tight at first, up and down Dean’s entire length, barely pausing to let his thumb tease at the head. Dean groans, his hips bucking up with the pleasure but Cas bears down and holds him securely in place. Cas slows almost abruptly then twists his hand, slower, shallower and more careful now in his strokes. It changes again, back to long and fast then slow and each time the change leaves Dean reeling. Cas watches him carefully the whole time, taking in each reaction like it’s a fucking wonder of nature and Dean is tense and trembling with how close he is to coming way too fast to be proud of. Cas can apparently senses that because he slows down to an almost languid pace, the pressure firm but just not quite firm enough, and leans down to murmur in Dean’s ear. “I do have lubricant."

“You _what_?” Dean’s distracted enough by that little confession that he’s shocked when Cas begins toying with the head of his cock, while his own neglected member rubs against Dean’s belly.

“I said, I have lubricant,” Cas clarifies, breathless and so very low, kissing and licking along Dean’s jaw. “Though it’s farther away than I’d prefer to move right now.”

“W-w-oh god there… _Why_?” Cas ruts down against Dean, finally letting him move as well and fuck up into the Cas’s fist (still changing pace at random).

“I told you,” Cas explains, as his hand moves lower to fondle Dean’s sac. “I’ve been…” he kisses Dean deep and hungry on the mouth as his hand moves even further back, fingers massaging Dean’s perineum and, then… “Experimenting.”

Dean maybe almost yells when he feel Cas’s fingers grazing his hole. His hand rockets to where their dicks are side by side between then and takes them both in his grip. Cas moans, not moving his hand from where it is so he can tease at parts of Dean no one has touched in years. For Dean’s part, he’s a mess of gasps and groans between the repeated chorus of “fuck” and “Cas” but he’s not focused on that, just on jacking them both, fast and rough as they rut together. A sudden, deep rub at his prostate from the outside by one finger and a prod at his hole with another sends pleasure ricocheting through Dean.

“Cas, I’m…” he doesn’t even get to finish the warning before Cas is kissing him through his orgasm. Dean shakes beneath Cas, his eyes rolling back, and his back arching Cas’s hand joins Dean on their cocks. Cas strokes Dean through it, then his hand is just on his own cock, wet with Dean’s come, and it’s only a few seconds before Cas too is trembling and spilling into the hot space between them.

“Dean…” Cas sighs against his neck, as he comes down from the peak. Dean feels nice and boneless, but he has just enough energy to stroke a thumb over Cas’s cheek.

“Yeah.” He’s not sure what he’s agreeing with but he doesn’t really care. What he does care about is the fascinated little huff Cas gives as he moves and notices the state of their hands and stomachs. “Sorry ’bout the mess,” Dean mutters a bit bashfully.

“It’s alright, I…” Dean’s not sure but maybe Cas is blushing a bit. He’s off Dean and in the bathroom before Dean can properly tell. Dean relaxes into the shitty motel mattress as he listens to the sound of running water and general futzing around in the bathroom. The last thing Dean wants to do is get up and get dressed and slink back to his own room, even if it’s only a flight of stairs and few steps away. Sam’s probably even still awake and he’s gonna ask what happened…maybe he can catch a few hours of sleep in baby.

Dean hauls himself vertical, his head still happily hazy. The lingering buzz of alcohol and the post coital fog make it really hard to find pants. This is one of the reasons Dean hates his part of hook ups.

“What are you doing?” Cas asks as he returns. Dean turns, taking a moment to appreciate the view of naked Cas while he can.

“Um…pants?”

Cas furrows his brow in a combination of frustration and…some other brand of frustration. “You’re going to sleep in your…” Cas shakes his head and steps into Dean’s personal space and starts toweling him down with a wet washcloth, all the while manhandling Dean back into the bed. Dean for his part is utterly compliant. “I don’t mind you sleeping here.”

“You don’t?” Dean asks before he can stop himself.

“Of course not,” Cas mutters, tossing away the rag and pulling the sheets and blanket over them.

Dean lies there like an idiot as Cas turns off the light and settles onto his pillow, chastely not touching Dean at all. They’re still naked though which is…well, all of it is weird come to think of it. Thinking of it was going to be something he left for morning him to do so instead the plan is to continue lying there, baffling and considering if he should touch Cas or…

“Was that…” Cas cuts himself off and Dean can hear the nervous swallow. _Oh._ It’s that conversation. That he can do.

“Yeah, Cas, it was good, thought you got that,” Dean chuckles, running a hand gently up Cas’s body under the sheets, from his knee all the way up to his cheek. He can feel Cas grinning. Even in the dark he knows that smile.

“Oh, good. It was…extremely pleasurable for me, as well, but I…I don’t have much to compare, exactly but…” Dean is going to tell himself he pulled Cas close to kiss him to shut him up. He’s really sure he’ll buy that come morning. They kiss lazily for what feels like a long time and it’s nice with no urgency behind it. Eventually their lips drift apart but their bodies are close now, breathing slow and even.

Falling asleep to the sound of Cas’s breath and the feel of it on his face is certainly not the worst was the night could have ended.

 

~*~*~*~

Waking up is always a checklist for Dean. Comes with a life lived on the road. Mostly it’s a series of wheres: Where is he? Where’s his weapon? Where is Sam? Where’s the car? After that always come more general questions like, which part of him is gonna be aching when he moves and how bad is the hangover?

This morning, the answers take a little longer to come to him. Maybe it has something to do with the feeling that he actually fucking _slept_ for the first time in a few weeks. It’s nice but disorienting and leads back to the usual series of questions. They’re in Iowa. Right. Witch thing. Gun should be under the pillow…no. And those are not Sam’s snores and they’re close and why is he so warm? Is that an arm on him? Oh yeah; bar. With Cas.

Oh.

 ...

 _Oh_.

Fuck.

Dean cracks an eye open and winces only a bit at the light (that answers the hangover question – not too bad, but definitely there). Yup, that arm draped over him and the hand attached are pretty fucking familiar. Emphasis on the fuck. Just looking at those hands sends Dean’s still groggy brain into the IMAX 3D, surround sound replay of last night. He had sex with Cas. Scratch that; he had _pretty fucking amazing sex with Cas_. And Cas is currently naked-big-spooning him in a shitty motel in Iowa. Dean’s panic is not the only thing rising, as what had started out as the tamest of morning wood jumps to attention at the memory. Dean squirms, trying to tell his body how bad of an idea that is, but the movement is enough to alert him to the fact Cas is in a similar, albeit more unconscious situation.

_Fuck._

To say there’s nothing Dean wants to do more than crawl in a hole and die right fucking now would be a lie, because there is one thing he wants to do more and that’s move some way, _any way_ , that generates friction for someone (he’s not picky). Maybe he can just…shift a bit. Yeah. He manages to get a hand on his cock and simultaneously convince himself that jacking off now, before Cas is awake, is the most logical option. He gets to come at least before what’s gonna be the most awkward conversation ever and that’s something right?

But he can’t help the way his hips move as he starts stroking himself, remembering last night and the feel of Cas’s hands (fuck, those _hands_ ) all over him. Cas’s dick is a line of heat against the cleft of his ass, and that combined with the sudden recollection that Cas has lube because he’s been 'experimenting' actually makes Dean whimper as he speeds up the movement of his hand. Dean hears another pleased sound and it takes a second before he realizes in horror he didn’t make it.

He freezes like a deer caught jacking off in the headlights.

“Shit,” Dean whispers. “Cas, I…”

Cas’s breath is close against his neck as he nuzzles into Dean, then rolls his hips. “Please keep moving.”

Dean swallows, his mouth dry and his heart racing, then starts moving again, this time with intention. The guy did ask politely, and everything is already literally fucked to hell, so why not?

The sound of Cas moaning into Dean’s shoulder makes him feel like he’s still drunk. Cas shifts himself so that his dick is perfectly situated between Dean’s ass cheeks for optimal friction. He gently drags his nails down Dean’s chest and stomach before his hand joins Dean’s on Dean’s cock, following Dean’s (already frantic) pace. Dean thrusts back, and up; because Cas somehow is practically on top of him and it’s suggesting other things that just…it’s useless to tell his brain not to go there. Or his mouth. “God, fuck, Cas…just like that…fuck…”

Cas thrusts again, and comes with a long deep moan just as Dean confirms that, yes, Cas is a bitter. The way Cas sinks his teeth into Dean’s shoulder as he spills on Dean’s ass has Dean following him over the edge with a final, whispered “fuck.”

It takes a minute or so for Dean to find his way back to rationality enough to turn to actually look Cas in the face for the first time that morning. Cas doesn’t look horrified or angry or disappointed or embarrassed so, that’s something at least. He looks fascinated actually, his eyes sweeping over Dean’s face and chest and down to his stomach...which is streaked with come. Dean watches, dumbstruck as Cas tilts his head curiously and runs a fingertip through the mess…then brings it to his mouth and flicks out his tongue.

“Hm,” Cas intones with the world’s most nonchalant expression as Dean tries not to have a small heart attack. “You taste different than me.”

Dean makes a noise like a small animal being choked. Maybe it’s the audible sound of his brain simply giving up. It doesn’t seem to bother Cas, who is, courteously, wiping Dean’s back then stomach off with the sheets (sorry, housekeeping) and disentangling himself as Dean continues to stare.

“Would you like to shower first?” Cas asks, standing up and stretching.

“What? Oh, uh, no…it’s your room, I’ll just…” Dean fumbles his way out of the bed, which is hard when you can’t stop staring at someone’s amazing ass across the room and trips about four times as he gropes for his pants. “I was gonna…in our room…anyway so…” Dean stammers. Cas squints at him then shrugs, heading into the bathroom without further comment.

Dean doesn’t run out of the room. He does manage to pull on clothes in under a minute and be out the door almost as soon as he hears the shower start but it’s not running. That’s something a total idiot would do and he is not…okay yes he is.

Dean reaches his and Sam’s room muttering a useless prayer. “Please be asleep, please be asleep, you big giant…”

“Whoa. Guess you did have a good night,” Sam laughs the actual second Dean walks in the room.

“That’s one completely inadequate word for it,” Dean smirks, switching on the bravado like a soldier snapping to attention. Sam shakes his head and goes back to drinking his coffee. “You get enough of that for me?”

“And a breakfast burrito,” Sam smiles.

“Man, you’re a good brother,” Dean sighs. “But I gotta hit the showers first.”

“Yeah you do; you stink.” Dean keeps up the customary ‘I just got laid' grin until the door is closed. When he’s safe under the water he lefts his head fall against the shower tile, trying and failing to push the very vivid memory of Cas _tasting his come_ , out of his mind. Thank god for refractory periods or he’d have to deal with the added shame of jacking off to that image alone. Getting clean, physically at least, helps wake him up and clears his head. The coffee and grub Sam hands him after helps too. He’s gonna be fine. Everything is fine and no one has to talk or change anything or…

“So, how did Cas do?”

Dean is choking _again_. He’s not sure the stuff they put in these burritos and call egg is better or worse than whiskey. “ _What_?”

“Cas did find someone to hook up with too, right?” Sam explains suspiciously. “Unless you were a dick and left him there while you got all the action.”

“I would never…” Sam’s face tells the tale of exactly how many times Dean has done that to his brother. “…do that to Cas.”

“So?” Sam asks again, eyebrows high.

“So, yeah…he scored.” Dean isn’t even lying. “He was great actually, barely needed my help.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man, cute brunette thing, great ass…not as great as my, uh, dance partner, but not bad at all. Sure she showed Cas a great time.”

“You’re hopeless,” Sam scoffs as Dean busies himself fussing with his duffle and finding his gun. He’s almost at ease when Cas knocks and Sam lets him in, surveying the other man. Dean’s not sure he should be the one to talk about the spectacular hickey Cas is sporting, considering he put it there but it’s something he would do normally. The shower didn’t seem to do much for the sex hair either. He does know he’s staring and Cas is staring back and Sam is coughing pointedly.

“Wow, I hope you got her number,” Sam says, rising and patting Cas on the back. Cas turns to squint at Sam. “Lemme guess, Dean told you to throw it away if she did?”

“Dude, I never throw away a number if it’s good,” Dean balks, casting Cas a nervous, private glance. “It was good, right, man? I mean that girl looked…”

Cas blinks several times, his focus boring into Dean uncomfortably. So much so that Dean’s cheeks start warming and his mouth gets dry.

“Yes, right,” Cas finally confirms with a stiff nod. “She was…very attractive and limber. The sex was enjoyable.”

“Good to know, Cas,” Sam laughs, mostly to himself. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas mutters.

Cas gives Dean one more curious look before they all head to the impala.

“You want shotgun, Cas?” Sam offers, handing Cas a cup of coffee he’s apparently been hiding.

Cas shakes his head, casting one more look at Dean. “The backseat is fine.” The doors slam shut and Dean takes a moment to appreciate the calm that comes from being behind the wheel of his baby. “It really _is_ very roomy back here, Dean,” Cas remarks off-handedly as he fiddles with his seat belt. Dean catches a raised eyebrow in the rear view mirror and realizes this is going to be a very, very long drive.


End file.
